Love and Hate
by Belgio
Summary: Germany watches Belgium in her office, not to her knowledge. He thinks about his feelings for her and why. I may want to continue this and turn this into a full story. I'm very unsure if I should. Tell me what you think.


**Ok, yay... I attempted to write a short story but I kind of also want to continue it. I don't know... What do you guys think?**

**I do not own Hetalia or any of it's characters...**

The year is 1928. Ten years after the Great War. Everyone was trying to get along and move on. Germany was financially broke and well so was most everyone else. He did manage to work off his debts with his trades and utility companies to say at least and he was in better shape then some of the other countries.

That last thought froze in Ludwig's mind. His boss constantly reminded him of those less fortunate. The German had stopped in front of Belgium's office once again. Through the office windows, he paused to stare at the blond for a brief moment. She was one country not doing as good as he. She suffered greater than England or France, yet he had to pay them more. It pained him to only give her what little he could.

Those two greedy bastards put her further into poverty, he thought. Her skin had lost it's sun kissed tan. It was now soft and pale looking. The woman's gold hair was complimented by her ivory skin. Belgium's emerald green eyes had lost their luster and were simply dark and dull. She was thinner in the cheeks today, he noticed. Even when she came out of the war, she had more weight on her then. Now the poor thing looked frail, yet him being a man, his thoughts traveled south from there. He was attracted to her, always had been.

Every day, unnoticed by her or much of any body, he had to stop and drink in her beauty. Whether she was sitting, standing, talking, it didn't matter to him. He wanted to adore her. Ludwig would have rather have her aware of his thoughts and appreciate his admiration but he knew what her reaction was going to be. The German swallowed hard and painfully making the collar to his grey German uniform feel tighter. He subconsciously pulled at it to loosen it up.

Only ten years has passed and she was doing everything she could to move on from the atrocities he and his brother had committed against her. Germany knew she feared and hated him. She had too to be in her right mind. The woman was violated in more than one way and yet she found the strength to hold him back during those years. The German soldier couldn't help but fall for such a woman.

He remembered years before, she watched over him, educated him, talked about industries, railroads, how to build a civil society, all the while his brother was off to war. It broke his heart when she was taken by Spain. Ludwig winced at the sting in his chest from the ageing memory. He swore, he would get her back one day. His brother just laughed it off at the time but Gilbert later realized the boy was going to make good on his promise.

Come 1914, Ludwig had taken her but only for a few weeks before she broke free and ran; leading a resistance that shook the nations. She held her ground to the bitter end. Out manned and out gunned, she still managed to hold off just long enough for France to gather his senses, and England to come and reinforce him. Reluctantly of course. A ting of jealousy bit at the German. He knew England had a thing for the petite blond, that was his _only_real reason he enforced France. It was a lame attempt to be a hero in her eyes, the soldier angrily thought.

Ludwig knew if he would have been able to take France, Russia would have never had a chance to out flank him, but no... Belgium had to hold her ground and fight against him and his brother, every step of the way. Bitterness and hate filled the German as he continued to watch the nonsuspecting blond from her office window facing the hallway.

He wanted to love her but yet he hated her, for standing in his way. Subsequently, he blamed her more then anyone one else for his loss. If she would have just stayed put where she was suppose to be, he wouldn't have had to hurt her, he wouldn't have blamed her for the loss but she was as prideful and stubborn as he was. It was another reason, amongst many others, why he loved her.

The German soldier hands trembled slightly as he fell further into his thoughts; his eyes carefully watching her in her hand-made blue dress, working tediously. Not once has she ever looked up from her desk since the war. She used to wave and smile at those passing by but now she was more concerned for her people and their well being.

Germany wanted to make it up to her but didn't know how and didn't know where to start; especially since a part of him still wanted to put a noose around her slender neck and hang her for all the trouble, and all the worry. He couldn't remember how many times, they'd run into resistance. Once his men would finish cutting them down, he'd search feverishly for her. It made him sick to think Belgium might have been buried amongst the dead but she wasn't. The next day, the next fight, the next week, followed into the next year. He always saw her somewhere, always away from him, out of his reach.

Ludwig would find himself at a loss many of those nights. He honestly would hope he'd find her amongst the rubble , so he could carry her body back to his home and let her recover but yet he hated her by that very same coin. The German's alternative motive was to find her, and punish her for everything. He prayed to God, he would deliver her to him.

He wanted nothing more then to wrap his black, leather gloved hand around that precious little neck of hers. Damn that woman, he thought. Germany, once again, blamed Belgium for having his thoughts scattered and confused. The German soldier ruffled his slick back, golden hair with a thick, gloved hand.

The tall, blond man reached into his right pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He used to never smoke, but after the war it was a habit he picked up to soothe himself, much like a pacifier. Ludwig gave the pack a quick motion upward with his wrist, causing a few butts to push up. His dry lips clasped around one as he pulled it out with ease.

The German's hand went into his left pocket and searched for his zippo, when one appeared in front of him, open and lit. Ludwig leaned forward putting the stick's end into the orange flame. He recognized the white military sleeve of Japan's beautiful uniform.

His dark, watery blue eyes followed the exquisite, white material and to be met by dark brown orbs staring back at him. Japan stood like a stoic statue, Ludwig couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Mr. Germany", the Japanese man said in a soft, monotone voice. Japan quickly flicked the lid back on the lighter, extinguishing the flame. The German took in a long drag on the bitter, tobacco stick. "Japan, vhat are you doing here?"

The shorter man let out a faint chuckle. "I should be asking you the same thing." Both men were really not friendly towards anyone, especially Germany. He had no friends and no real allies. Germany was suspicious of the short Japanese man. After all they were enemies during the war.

Japan sighed. "I notice you come by here every day, Mr. Germany. You always stop to look at her..." Japan nodded his head in the direction of Belgium without breaking eye contact. "Then you proceed to light your cigarette, stare again for a brief moment and then continue on down this hallway to your office at the end."

Ludwig filled his lungs with heated air and slowly let out the smoke, like a blue eyed demon from the pits of Hell. "Den, you've been vatching me Mr. Honda?" A small curl formed on the corner of Japan's lips. "I have. My boss would like us to get to know each other a little more." German begun to like this man. He was a business man just like him. "Alright, shall ve... den", he inquired in a deep German tone.


End file.
